


Pumpkin Spice, Piers and a Confession

by BabyChocoboAlchemist



Series: Leon and Chris Tell Each Other Things [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Romantic Friendship, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26556763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyChocoboAlchemist/pseuds/BabyChocoboAlchemist
Summary: “Even though our meetings were few and far between, something was there. Something I wrote off as a simple partnership. But then...I lost myself. Everything within me and around me disappeared. I was surprised I could even remember my own name. I lost everything that made me, and walkedrightinto everything that had the power to undo me. But somehow, I remembered your face. Your voice."Post Resident Evil 6. Chris Redfield has something to confess to long-time friend Leon Scott Kennedy. Inspired by the one and only Piers Nivans, Chris is determined to live life without ever looking back-which means possibly destroying his friendship with Leon.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield
Series: Leon and Chris Tell Each Other Things [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933945
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Pumpkin Spice, Piers and a Confession

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. Thank you for stopping by my piece. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> The events of this piece take place shortly after Resident Evil 6. I’ve been a lifelong Chris x Leon shipper, watched Chris’ RE6 cutscenes and wondered how his relationship with Leon would progress after his story. This is my take on their friendship and how it progresses.

_It’s all a blur. A storm that feels as if it just started yesterday, but has gone on for years. And it’s a storm I’ve been in the eye of, my entire life._

_I don’t know when it began, or even how it began. I don’t really have any comprehension of time any more. The only things I’m certain of are my name and my badge. In this line of work, you can’t even be certain of the sun rising, or the moon rising to take its place. The only ground you have to stand on is the ground you know cannot be lost. No matter what happens. Which leaves me with absolutely no credibility, when it comes to what I’m about to do, but then again, there’s some ground I just can’t afford to lose. Some truths I can’t afford to ignore any more. So no matter what happens, I’ll have to keep moving forward. I must’ve had at least a thousand opportunities to go under, and here I am today, apparently having declined every last one of them._

_Maybe I should’ve given up. Maybe it would’ve been a hell of a lot easier to just step out of the ring. But there’s no turning back for me. Never was, and I’ll be damned for even thinking of turning back now. Not after everything that’s happened. Not after everyone I’ve lost. I couldn’t look him in the eye if I even thought of stepping out of the ring now._

_So the storm continues. It’s one I could easily back away from, but here I sit, right in its eye. The storm may worsen from here on out. It may grow even darker or colder. But I’m not turning back. I can’t._

_There’s something I can’t turn my back on. Not any more._

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a new experience for Chris Redfield, sitting alone in a coffeeshop while waiting for a certain someone to show up. Outside of business matters. The one expected to show probably assumed their dinner was going to be all business and no play, but recent events in their professional lives would only kick things off. There was a storm brewing beneath Chris’ seemingly calm, solemn surface, a storm that started off as a gale but transformed into something much greater over the years. And bringing that storm up could possibly destroy everything they had built together. But-

In his line of work, there was no turning back. From anything.

The world around him was a chaotic yet calm blur of sounds and colors. Faces and memories. Fortunately, the earth beneath them wasn’t trembling in fear, seconds away from being broken by otherworldly destruction for the fifth hundredth time. It was surprisingly tranquil, the coffeeshop he invited his friend to, treating him to sounds he wasn’t used to hearing. The clinging of cups, the exchange of money from customer to cashiers, and the low murmur of evening chatter were comforting to the man that waited, alone, nervous, wondering if he was about to make one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He may have been well on his way to decimating something important to him, but at least the evening was calm. Safe from untold horrors. Safe from what he had seen far too many times.

Safe from what had broken him far too many times.

Every minute felt no different from an hour. It must’ve been three hours since he sat down-or had it only been thirty minutes? Making any sense of time was impossible. He, a legendary war hero, must’ve looked every inch an anxious man waiting for a special someone to show up-but nothing could be helped. After tackling demons that must’ve been ejected from the deepest, darkest recesses of Hell, worrying about what he looked like to other patrons was a complete waste of time. So the dozen glances that were thrown his way were dismissed.

Rain brushed up against the shop’s windows, a gentle murmur against the fires storming inside of him. Lives continued around him, each one with different goals and promises, all of them normal while his life wasn’t anything even remotely normal. Absentmindedly he stirred his coffee, wondering if his friend would even show, wondering if he had done the right thing, or maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all. Especially knowing where his friend was coming from. But then, as if someone up there suddenly had a burst of pity for him, he somehow lifted his head and found a certain someone approaching. It was the very one he had been waiting for-an elegantly dressed brunette with eyes that could pierce someone’s soul. Fortunately for the BSAA agent, it wasn’t difficult to suppress the surge of relief that came from the other’s entrance. “If you had told me a year ago we’d meet each other in a coffeeshop, I would’ve made you the laughing stock of the entire city,” Leon Scott Kennedy told him, which was no matter laughing matter, because Leon laughing was just about as common as money falling out of the sky. He took the seat across from Chris, his own steaming cup of coffee in tow.

“This is the _last_ place I expected to meet you in. Don’t tell me you’re a romantic when it comes to rain.”

Claire had always told him he was a little too transparent. Something he definitely needed to work on. Funny how he still had things to work on. A legendary, decorated war veteran needed to work on concealing his emotions a little more? Sad. “Guess you could say that,” Chris chuckled, the sound weak, splintered. “Hope coming out here wasn’t too much of a problem.”

Leon’s response was bittersweet. Soft. “Not really,” he began, stirring his own cup with a spoon. “Things have _finally_ quieted down on my end. I take it things have gotten a little calmer on your end, too.”

“As calm as they’ll ever get.”

Something rare lit up Leon’s face-disbelief. “Wait. Don’t tell me you ordered a pumpkin spice latte.”

The BSAA agent’s cup was drawn closer to him by a protective, indignant hand. “What if it _is?_ Don’t tell me it’s a crime to indulge once in a while.”

“It is, if you’re into all of that mainstream business. But hey-you don’t have to take it from me. I’ll take a good plate of pumpkin spice pancakes any day.”

The rain and the coffeeshop’s chatter colored their time and space for a few minutes, replacing the chaos that usually splintered their hours. A pumpkin spice latte and a simple cup of black coffee were quietly sipped, neither of them wanting to damage the frailty they had luckily managed to fall into. “Mind telling me why we’re here?” Leon asked, gently breaking the evening, rain-soaked calm. “I mean, I’m free for about another five minutes, but I get the feeling you didn’t invite me out here _just_ to enjoy the weather.”

“You’re right. There _is_ a little more to this.”

Both cups of coffee were forgotten, set off to the side. The late president’s agent raised an eyebrow after an uncertain moment, soft concern coloring his face. But before he could speak, Chris took the baton, soft anxiousness enveloping each breath. “Before I get into why you’re _really_ here, though, I’m sorry about Ada Wong.”

“No you’re not.”

“You don’t mince words, do you?” Claire’s brother chuckled. Leon leaned forward, folding his hands on top of the table. Fortunately, there wasn’t a bit of murderous hatred in his eyes-only the bittersweet calm of a rainy evening, and a surprising dash of warmth.

“It’s not something I enjoy doing, no. But I know you aren’t _really_ sorry about what happened. And you have every right not to be. I can’t blame you for the way you felt about her, considering everything she was responsible for.”

“Leon, _we_ didn’t pull the trigger. She-”

“No need to explain. I knew, even before you opened your mouth. Don’t ask me how I knew-I just knew. Besides, there’s no need for you to give me any more of an apology. There’s quite a lot going on when it comes to Ada-much more than you know. Truth be told, I’m a little more disturbed about what happened to the President. And how it happened on _my_ watch.”

Chris sighed, eyes misting over with the rain from a thousand memories, from a thousand cries and lost moments. A particularly impactful presence came to mind, like a lightning bolt striking the horizon, and he winced. As though he had been stabbed. “I understand what you’re going through,” he began, speaking not only to Leon, but to himself. “You did everything in your power to keep them with you, but in the end, it just wasn’t enough. And in the end, you’re left feeling as though you should’ve done so much more.”

Leon’s voice softened, matching the falling rain’s gentleness. “If I made it out to be a competition, I’m sorry,” he said, referring to their short, electric encounter in China. The one sparked over Ada. “You and your men, me and the President-it was anything _but_ a competition. Loss isn’t something to take any pride in, especially when you feel like you could have prevented it. We understand each other when it comes to the loss of life. So consider me sorry. About China, and about your men.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Claire’s brother prodded him, relieved, happy, grateful, sick to his stomach over a certain soldier’s face burning the insides of his skull. “Color me sorry about the President. I wish there was something I could have done to help.”

“Well, as _charming_ as this is, I’d appreciate it if you could get to the point. Or I’ll tell the Chief of the BSAA you drink Pumpkin Spice Lattes.”

Chris ran a hand over his face with a long, drawn-out sigh. “As tempting as it is to tell _your_ higher ups _you_ eat pumpkin spice pancakes, I’ll move things along. About Ada Wong-did you have any feelings for her?”

Leon blinked as though the BSAA agent had suddenly pulled out a gun. _“Now_ who isn’t mincing words? Look, if you’re worried about her, don’t be. What you think happened _isn’t_ what happened at all. But that’s something for _me_ to deal with. I’m sure you’ve got more than enough issues to work out.”

More of Chris’ splintered nerves emerged, starting to override his tranquil surface. “Unfortunately, this can’t really go anywhere until you answer the question.”

The brunette frowned, clearly uncomfortable, clearly aggravated and worried. “I _thought_ I did. Kinda hard to keep track of anything, with the way things work around here. Over and over again, I refused to allow myself to have feelings for _anyone._ That’s a rule I’d still like to uphold. But, as you can clearly see, dealing with someone like Ada Wong isn’t easy. Why do you ask?”

“Because _I_ have feelings for _you._ I’ve had feelings for you for a while now.”

Leon blinked as though Chris had not only pulled out a gun, but placed the end of the barrel against his forehead. Other patrons stopped walking and talking to turn their heads, drawn to the scene of the confession, but with none their faces bearing any malice. They were all intrigued, excited, in awe of the emotion and fire lodged behind the BSAA agent’s voice. The silence in their little corner of the world must’ve been an eternity long, but fortunately for Leon, Chris eventually broke it. “I haven’t forgotten your rule,” Claire’s brother assured him, his face solemn, nervous all at once.

“And believe you me, it’s a rule I’ve spent the last couple of years honoring. In our lines of work, relationships aren’t exactly safe and secure. But-”

Leon’s voice was colder than Neptune, and harder than flint. “Chris. This goes _beyond_ Ada Wong. I just lost the fucking _President of the United States._ What makes you think I’ll be okay with the thought of losing a _boyfriend?”_

Chris’ response was immediate. “Absolutely _nothing._ And I’ve lost more than enough men to last me a hundred lifetimes. Everything within me is screaming at me to turn back, but I can’t. Not any more. I tried, Leon, goddamit, I tried. For quite a while. But I’m done. Consider our rule the last thing I’ll be giving up on.”

It was a new experience for the esteemed bodyguard, being glued to the hot seat, feeling as though everything was moving much too fast for him to keep up with. “How long has this been going on?” he asked, his voice almost shrill, soft and alive with shock. Eyes were locked on them, darted back and forth between them as though they had suddenly become the stars of a tennis match. Another eternity passed between them, slow and painful, fortunately broken by Chris a moment later. “It started several months after the TerraSave reunion,” Claire’s brother admitted, keeping his eyes on the road, unwilling to turn back no matter the cost. Meanwhile, the world around them remained frozen. Locked on them, and willing to follow them onto the edge of the earth.

“Even though our meetings were few and far between, something was there. Something I wrote off as a simple partnership. But then...I lost myself. Everything within me and around me disappeared. I was surprised I could even remember my own name. I lost everything that made me, and walked _right_ into everything that had the power to undo me. But somehow, I remembered your face. Your voice. I couldn’t grab ahold of anything else but _you._ Whenever I was sure I was close to my breaking point, you were there. You were all I had. In a way, you helped Piers rescue me.”

Ah. Piers. The one name that skewered him and boiled him alive. That name hurt far more than Wesker’s ever did. And there was still another corner to turn. “Piers was the greatest soldier I ever had the honor of working with, and I lost him,” Chris continued, voice and heart even heavier, hurt, so much hurt, deafening hurt and loss raining down on him. “But in life and in death, he taught me to never turn my back on myself again. So here I am. I don’t know what’s going on with you and Ada Wong. I don’t even know if you’d even consider the possibility of dating a guy. But-”

“That’s _not_ the problem,” Leon snapped immediately, flustered. “Look. Some guy named Dr. Luis Sera flirted with me _and_ the President’s daughter the entire time I was forced to work with him. Him being a guy wasn’t the issue. Us facing a zombie apocalypse was the bigger issue. It still _is_ an issue. Along with you being someone I consider a good friend.” He paused for a moment, hand against his heart, appearing to be angry, wounded or both. Chris kept his eyes on him, waiting for the chance to come up for air, the other patrons continued to wait and listen, Leon wandered through a mental void that worsened the Redfield’s nerves-

And the brunette shook his head, laughing. The sound not at all sweet. “I don’t believe this. The President dies, on _my_ watch, and _you_ tell me you have feelings for me. What next? Is the Umbrella Corporation back in action?”

“God, no. At least I hope not. Who knows.”

Angry, confused, wounded, sad-Leon could’ve been any one of those, or all of the above. He bowed his head, mind and heart racing, not knowing where to turn or even how to turn. Quiet colored the minutes between them again, painful and drawn out, driving knives deeper into wounds that already had Chris at his breaking point. The Kennedy went through a struggle, trying to form his scattered thoughts into comprehensible sentences, working through the fog that had enveloped his mind in mere seconds. “I’m glad I was able to help you, Chris,” he began, just as anxious as the man sitting across from him, a boiling cauldron of anger, frustration and worry.

“Really, I am. Words won’t ever do justice to how glad I am. But you know where I stand. You’ve known this ever since we _met._ I can’t afford to drag anyone I care about through the mud. I certainly can’t afford to have them _die_ on my watch. You being a man isn’t the issue here. Me caring about you and your sister _is._ Let’s say I agree to whatever you’re proposing. Do you honestly think I’d be happy to hear you’ve been abducted or even better- _killed-_ by some bastard trying to get under my skin?”

“No, I don’t. I wouldn’t expect you to be.”

“And what about _you?_ Do you honestly want to go through the hassle of _me_ being used against _you?_ After everything you’ve been through?”

“Yes.”

A cloud of collective gasps rose in an instant, Leon’s being a part of that cloud. “Crazy, I know,” Claire’s brother admitted, shaking his head. “Everything inside of me is telling me to change course. But I’m not backing down. Not now, not ever. I promised Piers I’d never go back to the man I was, and that’s not a promise I plan on breaking. If anything were to ever happen to you, I’d do everything in my power to save you. I failed more men than I care to count, including the brave young man responsible for saving my life. Whatever you take away from this meeting of ours, I don’t plan on failing you or anyone else ever again. Even if it costs me my life.”

A hefty swig of black coffee was taken by its owner, then its owner sighed. “Thanks for not making this any easier,” the brunette groaned. “God, this isn’t enough.” 

Horror broke out on the Redfield’s face the second Leon rose to his feet. Fortunately, his guest made his way back towards the counter, not the exit. It was another five minutes before the agent returned to the table, new cup of coffee in hand. “Can’t beat a good ol’ cup of Robusta,” he grinned, the expression on his face small but piercing, electric. Chris’ eyes widened but a smile broke out, crafted out of immense relief and curiosity.

“You know, you’re _not_ going to be able to sleep tonight.”

Leon frowned. “Who says I get any sleep? I don’t even know what sleep is. I damn sure won’t get any tonight.” He then took a rather huge sip of heavily caffeinated coffee. Must’ve been pretty hot, but oh well, nothing like living dangerously. “Look,” the Kennedy began again, prompting Chris to make a mental note of something: every time the brunette said the word ‘look’, it was a clear indicator of him being aggravated. But-

“At least you haven’t made a mad dash for the door. Your throat’s not coming out of this unscathed, though.”

“You _do_ understand this is coming out of left field, right?”

Chris replied to his mystified friend immediately. “I do, and I don’t expect you to respond to anything I’ve said tonight. I’m just grateful you’re still here. But you may wanna be a little more careful with your coffee.”

“What I do with my coffee is none of your business,” Leon prodded him, after taking a second hefty sip of his coffee. “So. Is there anything _else_ you’ve got to tell me, or are we done for the night?”

The man sitting across from him smiled, for what felt like the first time in a lifetime.

“No, I think we’re good for now.”

**Author's Note:**

> These events take place several weeks after the events of Resident Evil 6.
> 
> Leon agrees to date him a couple weeks before the events of Resident Evil Vendetta. Neither of them really get the chance to breathe, so Claire and the other members of the BSAA collaborate on throwing the two of them into a date. Other than their first trip to the coffeeshop, it’s the only date they’re able to have before being thrown back into their lines of work. They spend about 98% of the time being completely and utterly awkward around each other, but it’s purely because they devote so much time and effort to their jobs.
> 
> They do not date at all between Resident Evil 7 and Resident Evil 8. They’re hardly romantic towards each other, outside of their incredibly awkward first date. Most of their conversations happen over the phone, kind of like how the main couple in Bakuman communicates through text messages and emails. But a BSAA agent comments on how they’ve never imagined anyone would love their other half the way Chris loves Leon. Hunnigan teases Leon over how much Leon worries about Chris, and glows whenever the BSAA agent is mentioned. 
> 
> I don’t know what’s going to happen in Resident Evil 8. None of us do, lol. But I like to imagine that a year or two after Resident Evil 8, Leon and Chris finally find some time to date because wow their jobs are pure Hell. Then eventually marry.
> 
> I originally planned on having the two of them agonize over their sexuality, but considering their line of work, I felt it would’ve been a little shallow. With the two of them heavily invested in saving the world for bioterrorism, going with the anime cliche of ‘but omg you’re a dude’ would’ve felt a little wooden. I decided to use their jobs as a reason for friction instead. If you’d rather have them worry about their sexuality, though, please let me know. I’ll be more than happy to come up with a piece that reflects those concerns. :)
> 
> Thank you for reading. Be safe.


End file.
